Where Spring Took Root: Eighteen Years of Norlha and Its Nomads

Where Spring Took Root: Eighteen Years of Norlha and Its Nomads

01 A Touch of Spring Slowly Growing on the PlateauWinter is the toughest season for yaks.

During this time, the barren pastures can no longer sustain life, forcing yaks to gather near winter settlements, surviving on the sparse remnants of grass and barley harvested in the fall.

It is a lean season, yet the yaks patiently wait for spring. Eventually, the pasture revives, calves are born, and the cycle repeats.

As the grasslands shift from green to brown and eventually turn bare, the nomads, too, wait patiently. For those whose lives depend almost entirely on yaks, this long, cold winter becomes the most challenging time of the year.

Therefore, as winter approaches, village men ride horses around the village, chanting prayers in hopes of gentler weather to ease hardships for both the people and the animals.

Yet the harsh winters of the plateau never yield to prayer. The winds remain piercing; the snow blankets the land in endless white.

It wasn’t until 2007 that change arrived. Norlha, the first yak wool atelier on the Tibetan plateau, took root in Gannan — like the first warmth of spring, bringing hope to the nomads enduring the long winters.

02 It All Started with a Strand of Soft Khullu

Norlha was founded by Dechen Yeshi and her mother, Kim Yeshi. In 2007, after graduating from Connecticut College, Dechen returned to her father’s hometown — Ritoma village in Gannan — and started Norlha together with her mother, who had a deep love for textiles.

During their days in Ritoma, they noticed that each winter, yaks grow a layer of incredibly soft and fine undercoat to survive the cold, which naturally sheds in spring. This rare, warm fiber is called Khullu. After many rounds of experimentation, when they finally saw their first beautiful piece of woven Khullu fabric, they decided to build an atelier on the plateau to share this precious gift from the yaks with the world.

Nor means yak, and Lha means spirit. To the nomads, the yak — able to carry loads, provide milk, and offer material for shelter and warmth — is seen as a sacred blessing. Dechen knew that the atelier owed its existence to the yaks of the plateau, so she named the brand "Norlha," symbolizing "a gift from the sacred."

Starting from a small workshop in Ritoma, Norlha has turned Khullu into scarves, clothing, and home goods, reaching Shanghai, New York, and dozens of countries and regions around the world — becoming a truly successful brand in every sense.

03 Trusting the Land, Returning Time to Its People

There are countless successful brands in the world, but Norlha is genuinely different.

From the beginning — even in choosing the name — Dechen chose gratitude. When it came to hiring, instead of selecting educated, skill-ready applicants, she chose to hire nomads who had spent their lives on the grasslands — many of whom had never worked outside of herding and even struggled with communication. Yet she believed that those who had lived for generations on this plateau carried a deep potential. Their bond with the land and the yaks was something no one else could ever replace.

Dechen insisted that if she was going to build a business here, she had to give back to the people of this land.

In a world driven by speed and efficiency, Norlha chose to slow down — to return time to those who had spent their lives working tirelessly here.

In an interview with Wellness, a Norlha employee named Lhagong reflected that if he were an entrepreneur, he might not have had the courage to hire people without formal education. He admired Dechen’s bravery and persistence.

With this belief, Norlha has grown into a team of 106 local nomads, who have now learned weaving, bookkeeping, computer skills, and other modern abilities. Their average age is around 40, and 66% of them are women.

Among those whose lives have been transformed, Jigshe Tso’s story is especially remarkable. She joined Norlha at the age of 18 and was among the first ten nomads trained in 2007. She lost her hearing to meningitis when she was two years old, but she never let it defeat her. Today, she is one of Norlha’s most outstanding and highest-earning artisans.

And Jigshe is not the only one rewriting her story.

04 More Than Just “Another Option”

Dorjee Rinchen is Norlha’s Sales and Marketing Manager, and he also comes from a herding background. From managing scarf inventory and shipping in the warehouse back in 2007 to leading the entire marketing team today, Dorjee has walked alongside Norlha for eighteen years, witnessing every small step along the way.

This time, I invited him for an interview. When asked, "What does Norlha mean to its employees?" he paused for a moment and answered with a small shrug:

"Umm... an option. Before, nomads had nothing beyond tending yaks and milking. Their lives revolved around livestock — there was nothing else. We simply gave them another option."

Dorjee spoke lightly, but I firmly believe that for the nomads, it meant far more than just "another option."

For a long time, life in Gannan was harsh and monotonous.

In Norlha’s documentary, Dechen mentioned:

"In the summers, women had to wake up at three in the morning to milk animals, and they wouldn’t stop until midnight. During those months, they barely slept three to four hours a night. There was no time to rest."

Norlha’s arrival didn’t just offer lighter work — for the first time, it gave these women both time and income they could truly call their own.

Beyond providing an economic opportunity, Norlha offered a new understanding of life itself — that living didn’t have to be so grueling.

Eighteen years ago, when survival came first, hygiene was not a priority on the plateau. One of the first things Norlha did was set up bathing rooms in the workshop and begin promoting the importance of hygiene for health.

Eighteen years ago, nomads had no choice but to walk to work. Today, some ride motorcycles, others drive cars.

More importantly, women now ride motorcycles too —

something that once belonged "only to men" has now become a natural part of their daily commute.

"I believe these women will be driving cars to work very soon," Dorjee said with quiet certainty.

05 No Longer Chasing the Seasons, Norlha Planted an Everlasting Spring

Eighteen years ago, when the pastures turned green again and calves were born, hope and revival belonged only to spring.

But with Norlha’s arrival, from harvesting Khullu, to spinning it into yarn, weaving, to selling, every step brought new opportunities. For the first time, nomads no longer depended solely on the unpredictable shifts of the seasons. They secured a more stable income and a broader future.

Gradually, hope was no longer tied only to spring.

In a way, Norlha planted an everlasting spring in Gannan.

This lasting spring was not a coincidence. It grew from deep gratitude toward the land and its people. No matter how the world changes, Norlha remains committed to coexisting with the land and walking alongside nature.

When I brought up the topic of "sustainable business," Dorjee answered without hesitation:

"Nowadays everyone talks about sustainability, treating it like a marketing term. But we don't need to emphasize it — Norlha has always been that way. From collecting raw materials to weaving fabrics, every step is natural and follows the rhythms of nature."

Listening to his steady voice, I couldn’t help but wonder — what had made him join Norlha and stay for eighteen years?

06 From Protecting a Yak Calf to Nurturing a Springtime of His Own

Dorjee started herding at a very young age. He recalls waking up before dawn at the age of four or five to lead the yaks out to pasture, only returning home when the sky turned dark.

"The clearest memory I have is from when I was fifteen," he said with a smile. "One day, a baby yak wandered over the mountain and didn’t come back. When I went to search for it, I found a wolf biting its neck. I don’t even know where the courage came from — maybe just instinct — but I picked up a stone and threw it. The wolf ran away. The baby yak survived. In that moment, I felt an incredible sense of accomplishment."

 As he grew older, Dorjee missed the chance to attend an official school because of his age. But by a stroke of luck, a teacher he knew introduced him to Norlha, which was just getting started at the time. He joined — and never left.

From a young boy to a middle-aged man, Dorjee has journeyed alongside Norlha for eighteen years. Yet he struggles to explain exactly why he stayed so long:

"A lot of people ask me this. I’ve asked myself too. Maybe it’s the income — but I don't think that's the real reason. If it were just about money, there are plenty of other opportunities outside. I think the real reason is something deeper. Something about the values here that fulfills me inwardly."

Dorjee couldn’t quite put the answer into words.

But listening to his story, I heard the answer.

The Dorjee of today carries forward the same instinct — to protect the spring that Norlha has brought to Gannan, a spring of hope that will continue to nurture generations to come.

 

Explore Her Collection

。。。

 

Part of This article was inspired in part by Norlha’s official stories and interviews, including:
– 
The Winter Yak — Norlha Blog
– Norlha’s 18-Year Journey and the 106 Nomads Behind It (WeChat article)
– 
Norlha Documentary on YouTube

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